


'Tis the season to be Joly

by tothebarricade



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Light Angst, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothebarricade/pseuds/tothebarricade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is bad at communicating his emotions. Grantaire is bad at reading Enjolras' emotions. It's a good thing they have great friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis the season to be Joly

 

“’Tis the season to be _Joly_!” Courfeyrac cried from inside. Grantaire turned around and rolled his eyes at the sight of Courfeyrac. He was clearly drunk, clinging to Joly who had his head thrown back in laughter. He couldn’t help but smile at the mixture of muffled laughs and groans that Courfeyrac’s pun received.

Everyone was gathered at Courf and Marius’ apartment for the annual Les Amis Early Christmas, Christmas Party. Since a lot of the group usually ended up going home to see relatives on Christmas day, they would have their party a few days before Christmas so that everyone could come.

 

Grantaire had just stepped out onto the tiny balcony with Jehan for a smoke.

“He’s ridiculous,” Jehan laughed. Grantaire noticed that he had already put out his cigarette, clearly eager to rejoin the commotion. Sometimes Grantaire wondered if Jehan only smoked to keep him company.

“You can go back in, don’t wait for me,” Grantaire told him kindly. Jehan gave him a look as to say ‘ _are you sure?_ ’ “Really, go on!”

Jehan smiled and stepped back inside to join their friends. Grantaire stayed outside for a bit longer. He turned around, gazing at the city. They may have had a pretty small apartment but it had a great view.

He was lost in the lights; imaging the different ways he could paint them, when the door opened again behind him.

“Oh, hi, R” a familiar voice said. He turned around to see Enjolras wearing a bright red Christmas sweater. It had white and green reindeer all across the front. This was possibly _the_ ugliest sweater Grantaire had ever seen but, somehow, Enjolras still managed to pull it off. Grantaire pulled his sleeves down over his hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his own sweater, a dark green number with a black Christmas tree that Eponine picked out for him (insisting that even though it was dark, it _was_ still festive).

“You know, you don’t always have to show up fashionably late to parties,” Grantaire said in lieu of a greeting, “we _know_ that you always have more important things to do, no need to make a show of it.”

Enjolras sighed. “I had to finish writing a speech for next week’s meeting, if I didn’t finish it now I wouldn’t have gotten it done in time. It’s not like I _prefer_ to be at home doing work when I could be out with my friends.” Enjolras stated.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Grantaire scoffed. “What are you doing out here anyway? The party’s inside, Apollo.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.” Grantaire held up his cigarette in response. “Oh.” Enjolras now felt the need to explain himself, since _he_ clearly wasn’t smoking. “Well, I love them,” he said turning around, leaning on the handrail and gesturing to his drunken friends, inside. The way his back arched against the railing _did_ _things_ to Grantaire so he quickly moved his eyes away from the god-like man and back out to the city. “But Combeferre has being playing Christmas carols non-stop for the past week and I swear to God, if I hear ‘Deck the Halls’ one more time I might just punch someone.” Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Enjolras getting into a physical fight over holiday music.

“A Christmas party may not have been the best idea, then.” Grantaire said, still smiling. Enjolras tuned around now so that he was now facing Grantaire. There was moment of silence.

“You should really quit, you know,” Enjolras pointed at the cigarette. The smile faded from Grantaire’s face. _God, he hated it when Enjolras tried to tell him what to do._

“What happened to not caring about the decisions that other people make?” Grantaire asked, pointedly. “I don’t see how my smoking effects you in any way, Enjolras.”

“Well, it would effect me if you were to you know, get lung cancer and die.” Enjolras retorted.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him before looking away. “Why the hell would you care,” he mumbled, not intending for Enjolras to hear him.

“What do you mean, ‘why would I care’? You’re my friend, are you not? I think it’s a reasonable to assume that one would upset if their friend was to frickin’ die.”

Grantaire became frustrated at the fact that they couldn’t even have a conversation _at a Christmas party,_ without it turning into an argument.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Grantaire put out his cigarette even though he wasn’t done with it. He couldn’t take another minute his every move being criticised by someone he so desperately wanted to please. “I came here tonight to _have fun_ , Enjolras. Do you know how to do that? – Having fun, I mean.” He sighed and turned towards the door. “I don’t need your disapproval right now, okay?”

He reached to turn the door handle when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Even through his sweater, even in the cold, he could feel the heat radiating from Enjolras. _This boy literally burns with passion,_ Grantaire thought.

“R, wait.” Enjolras’ voice was softer than usual. Not by much, but Grantaire still noticed. He let go of the door handle and turned around, looking at Enjolras with interest. “I’m sorry.”

 

Was this happening? Was this actually happening or was he dreaming? Enjolras, their fearless leader, was apologizing to _him_? Grantaire’s eyes widened slightly and his breath caught in his throat.

When Grantaire didn’t respond, Enjolras continued. “I know that I’m tough on you but it’s only because I care about you.” He had still not let go of his grip on Grantaire’s arm. He moved his free hand up to R’s face, gently placing it on his cheek. “It’s just that I,” he took a deep breath, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, okay?”

Grantaire’s heart was practically in his mouth. He was scared to say anything in case it jumped out.

His eyes wandered around Enjolras’ face, and stopped briefly on his lips. They looked perfect. Grantaire could see how soft and pink they were at this proximity and he had to look away because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing them.

Though when he moved his eyes, there was no safe place to land. He darted from Enjolras’ smooth blond curls, which were falling in his eyes. _Oh, his eyes_ , his piercing blue eyes. Those eyes alone could convince Grantaire to do absolutely anything. Soon, it was all too much and he had to pull away, out of Enjolras’ hands.

“Yeah, um, it’s okay.” Grantaire managed to say. Enjolras looked at him, a little expectantly, but he wasn’t sure exactly what Enjolras was expecting. Grantaire quickly ducked back inside, leaving the other man outside, alone.

 

***

 

Once inside, Grantaire sat down on a couch next to Jehan and Eponine who were laughing loudly.

“Grantaire!” they exclaimed in unison as he arrived, clearly a little more than tipsy. He smiled at them but didn’t say anything, still a little shocked and confused about his encounter with Enjolras.

“What was that about, with Enjolras, outside?” Eponine asked, as if reading his mind. Grantaire kind of just stared at them, even more confused.

“We saw his hand on your face, he looked very serious,” Jehan added, as way of explanation.

 

Grantaire told them everything, quietly, so that Enjolras, who was now also inside, wouldn’t hear. Courfeyrac had also joined the conversation. When he noticed the close, hushed talking, he just _had_ to know what was going on.

“Wait,” Eponine said in amazement, “you’re telling me that he had his hands all over you, telling you that _he cares about you_ , and you _didn’t_ kiss him?” Grantaire’s stared at her, eyes big.

“Should I have? I mean he doesn’t even like me like that.” his voice sounded more panicky than he would have liked. Jehan laughed, not unkindly.

“R, if you haven’t noticed, Enjolras is not exactly _good_ at expressing his emotions. If that wasn’t a sign to that he likes you, I don’t know what is.” Courfeyrac explained.

At this point, Grantaire was too stunned to even reply. _Could it be? Could Enjolras really have feelings for me? Me! Of all people!_ He thought about this for a moment before realising that his friends were all staring at him in anticipation.

“So are you going to go to him?” Jehan asked, breaking the lull in conversation. Eponine held his hand and squeezed as encouragement, Grantaire turned to her, feeling the like he was going to pass out.

“It will be fine,” she said, almost in a whisper.

 

He stood up off the couch and wiped his suddenly clammy hands on his pants. Enjolras was now back out on the balcony, which Grantaire was thankful for – if he was about to get turned down, he didn’t want it to be in front of everybody. He walked as fast as his wobbly legs would carry him. He didn’t even know what he was going to say, _Hi, so I’m kind of in love with you and I was wondering if you felt the same way?_ He pushed the thought out of his mind and tried to convince himself that, the words would just come to him.

Enjolras was standing outside with Combeferre, discussing the current political state of North Korea.

“Hi guys,” Grantaire interrupted, opening the door and trying to sound as casual as he possible could. Combeferre’s phone suddenly buzzed.

“Oh, I have to…go inside” He said quickly when he read the text that he received (Grantaire would later learn that the text was from Courfeyrac, telling him that, “u need to come inside right now bc E and R are about to get together and also u now owe me $20”).

Combeferre hurriedly left them alone on the balcony despite Enjolras’ protests, telling him that they weren’t even finished talking. Enjolras sighed in defeat when the door closed behind his best friend and he then look over to Grantaire.

“Hi,” he said. There was something in his voice that Grantaire couldn’t quite place; he would have almost thought it was nervousness if he didn’t know any better. Though, come to think of it, he couldn’t actually remember a time when he had ever heard Enjolras sound nervous.

“Hi,” Grantaire awkwardly returned.

“You said hi already.”

“Right.”

“Was there something you wanted to say, R?” Enjolras questioned.

“Yeah, actually there was,” Grantaire started. He took a step closer to Enjolras, who didn’t move away. “I, um” He took Enjolras’s hands in his own, and, to Grantaire’s surprise, Enjolras gently held him back. He inched closer and it was painfully slow; he was still unsure of what he was doing though his intentions were clear. Enjolras couldn’t stand it anymore and leaned in the rest of the way and their lips finally met. Grantaire’s heart was beating so hard he was sure it would come out of his chest. Enjolras moved his hands away from Grantaire’s hands and up to his hair, tangling his fingers in to the dark curls. Grantaire was uncertain of what to with his hands now that Enjolras had moved his away. Sure, he had kissed people before but he had never kissed _Enjolras_ and his nerves were getting the better of him. He pulled away.

But when he did, he saw Enjolras, disheveled and more beautiful than ever. Suddenly, all of his nerves were gone and he kissed him again. This time he knew what he was doing. It was the best he had felt in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this entire thing so that i could use the joke about Joly's name.


End file.
